


Big Secrets, And Other Things To Talk To Your Therapist About

by Aimael



Series: The Time Inbetween [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Identity Reveal, POV Outsider, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Spider-Man Identity Reveal, Therapy, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:08:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26449048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aimael/pseuds/Aimael
Summary: “I don’t normally do this, Dr McKinley”, Miss Potts’ voice confided calmly, “but I’d be very grateful if you personally would take on this client. You’d be generously recompensed for your troubles, of course.”“Alright, then, Miss Potts”, Lauren sighed. “I suppose there’s no reason why not. What’s the client’s name, please?”“Tony Stark.”Lauren blinked.or:How Dr Lauren McKinley, psychologist, randomly acquired not one, but two new clients of the superhero kind, because she was a little too curious to say no.
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: The Time Inbetween [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027078
Comments: 49
Kudos: 674
Collections: Lost and Found Irondad Fics





	Big Secrets, And Other Things To Talk To Your Therapist About

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! New fandom for me, yay!
> 
> This story exists for the following reasons:
> 
> \- I’ve become obsessed with stories from the MCU in general and IronDad-stories in particular the past four months or so, and decided I needed to contribute to the community.  
> \- There are so many mentions of these wonderful messes of persons either needing to see a therapist, or actually seeing a therapist, in the stories in the community (which makes sense, they totally should!). And my weird lump of a brain immediately jumped to “but hey, that’s actually a neat idea”-mode, “what if we could see what they’re talking about”.  
> \- I love outsiders being made aware of Peter’s identity. It’s a favourite trope of mine. I adore it. If you have any fic recommendations, please leave them in the comments, I’d be super grateful.
> 
> On to the story :) I hope you’ll enjoy!

Lauren picked up on the fourth ring, putting the file she had been re-reading down, still frowning over her own notes. “Doctor McKinley’s Psychiatric Clinic.”

“Hello, am I speaking to Dr McKinley?” The voice was female and sounded pleasant.

“Yes, this is she.” She’d sent her assistant - Jennifer - home after her last client had gone. If Lauren wanted to work late, she was of the firm belief she could answer her own phone calls. Jen shouldn’t have to suffer for it.

“Good. My name is Pepper Potts. I apologize for calling so late, but I wanted to speak to you directly. I hope it’s not too much of an inconvenience.”

Lauren slowly leaned backwards in her desk chair, and took a slow breath to calm her suddenly very fast heartbeat. “Miss Potts.”  _ This is… unreal. _ “What can I do for you?” The familiar phrase felt stilted. 

“I’m not calling on my own behalf”, Miss Potts’ voice continued from the other end of the line. “I was wondering if you’d take on a friend of mine, as a new client.”

Lauren took another breath, not quite believing what she was about to say to  _ the Pepper Potts _ , and exhaled slowly through her nose so it wouldn’t be heard over the phone. “I’m very sorry, but I am… not taking on more clients just now. I’m afraid my schedule is fully booked. I’d be very happy to recommend you - sorry, your friend, to one of my colleagues in the clinic, though. I know both Dr Grayson and Dr Rivera would be happy to give you a call in the morning, if you’d like me to talk to them.”

“I don’t normally do this”, Miss Potts’ voice confided calmly, “but I’d be very grateful if you personally would take on this client. You’d be generously recompensed for your troubles, of course.” 

And then she mentioned a sum which made Lauren unable to do anything other than stare blankly into the opposite wall for a few seconds, before firmly retaining her grip on herself. She didn’t need the money. She had her own practice, these days, and her husband had a good salary too. The quick -  _ very quick _ \- consideration was just greed, nothing more. 

“As I’m sure you’ll understand, Miss Potts, I will not abandon my current clients, and I’m afraid I really  _ am _ fully booked at the moment.” She had not planned to sound quite so firm (especially not with  _ the CEO of Stark fricking Industries _ ), but she didn’t regret it either.

“Oh no, Dr McKinley, I wouldn’t ask you to.” The voice sounded entirely genuine. “I’d ask you to extend your schedule a little. Two sessions per week, or so. Consider it a very well-paying overtime client, if you’d like.”

Lauren closed her eyes. Spare time was a luxury, these days, with two kids and the commute, and  _ overtime _ was not her favorite word. “I normally meet with new clients once a week, at the very most.” She was aware it was not a  _ no _ . 

Miss Potts also seemed aware, because her tone became more business-like. “This client needs more frequent… attention. I’d be grateful - and the check would reflect - if you could make another exception.”

Lauren opened her eyes again, and took a mournful look on her already overly full schedule hanging on the wall next to her desk and found the little box for tomorrow. 

_ Tuesday _ , it said  _ Harrison,  _ then  _ George, Madeleine, Wendy _ and  _ Jane  _ in black pen, and after that,  _ Aiden soccer practice 5pm _ and  _ Laundry!!!  _ in green. 

Then her curiosity got the better of her.

_ What the hell. _

“Alright, then, Miss Potts”, Lauren sighed. “I suppose there’s no reason why not.”

“I’m sure there’s every reason why not,” Miss Potts gently contradicted, “and I’m grateful, Dr McKinley.”

“Yes, well”, Lauren said somewhat drily, “most of my clients and their friends and family are, in the end. What’s the client’s name, please?”

“Tony Stark.”

Lauren blinked. 

_ Alright, then. _

Feeling somehow as if she should have seen that coming, but wondering  _ how the hell _ this day had started out so normal and ended up so bizarre, Lauren cleared her throat. “I - normally, clients who are of age call me themselves, to set up their appointments.” Not entirely true - it happened that partners called on the behalves of their husbands or wives, or that a very worried best friend made the first call to find out about costs or available times for therapy - but a careful way to inquire into the situation nonetheless.

“Tony doesn’t know I’ve called you.” Miss Potts sounded unrepentant. “He’d have told me not to.”

“I’m sure you already know this, Miss Potts”, Lauren said carefully, “but therapy with someone who is unwilling is very rarely a good idea. Ineffective, at best. Mr Stark would have to come of his own volition, so to speak, or I can’t do anything for him.” 

“He will come. He knows, if he were to think about it, that this is something he needs, so don’t worry about that, Dr McKinley.”

“If you say so.” Lauren wasn’t about to argue. “Well -” she snuck another look at her schedule on the wall and did a few quick recalculations - “I have time for an initial session with him on Thursday at five, or sometime in the beginning of next week, if that’s more convenient.”

“You have time -” Miss Potts repeated, then broke off. When she spoke next, there was a great deal of humor in her voice. “Of course, Dr McKinley. I’ll make sure he drops by your offices on Thursday at five.” 

Lauren realized far too late that  _ she _ probably was supposed to adhere to  _ Tony Stark _ ’s schedule and  _ not  _ the other way around, but since Miss Potts didn’t seem too bothered about it all, she forced her embarrassment down. “Is there anything else I should know, before meeting with Mr Stark?”

“Don’t worry, I think he’ll like you”, Miss Potts said, still sounding amused. In a more sober tone, she continued: “Regarding what he’ll want to talk to you about, I wouldn’t wish to speculate. There’s… well, there’s plenty to choose from, and I don’t doubt it would be… helpful to talk to you, regardless of which subject you’ll start with.” 

Cautiously, Lauren said: “Anything he’ll choose to say would stay between him and me.” She didn’t say  _ I will not tell you about any of it _ . She didn’t  _ think  _ she needed to, but she had met more than one worried close relation to her clients who assumed she would divulge information to them, too.

“Of course, Dr McKinley”, Miss Potts said kindly. “Thank you again. I won’t take up more of your valuable time.”

“Miss Potts?” It was not quite an interruption. “Might I ask you a question first? Why… why me? There must be thousands of psychiatrists in New York City.”

“Many reasons.” Miss Potts’ business-like tone was back. “Your offices are discreetly located and easily accessible, and even if the press should manage to catch a glimpse of him there, there are several other companies in the building which he could plausibly have visited, if he doesn’t want to divulge that he’s seeing a therapist. Your company has a great reputation with several highly educated psychologists in employ. You have had celebrity clients before and there has never once been a single leak about it.”

“That... isn’t really common knowledge”, Lauren interjected, and then felt very stupid.

“Exactly.” Miss Potts didn’t volunteer anything else, and Lauren decided it wasn’t worth asking. “As for you personally… you’re successful in your field, and you built it with your own two hands. Tony respects that in people. You’re not afraid to put your foot down, which might very well be needed too. But what is more, most everyone who talks about you says that you’re  _ kind _ , Dr McKinley. And that you honestly see the good in people, not just try to help them because your professional pride demands it. I think Tony needs that.” 

The worry in her voice, in her phrasing, was faint but audible, and it was painfully familiar. Every worried parent, friend, partner who truly cared about the person they were calling for sounded like that. It made Lauren’s heart ache every time.

“You take good care of him.” 

“See? That’s what I mean.” 

Smiling faintly, Lauren said: “Very well then. I’ll try to take good care of him too.”

* * *

“I’m normally not one for formalities”, said Lauren, once the initial greeting phrases were over with and they both had taken their seats, “so if you’d be alright with it, I’d suggest we go by our first names here. In that case, I am Lauren.”

Tony Stark wore a suit jacket and a dress shirt, but paired it with black jeans and sneakers. He hadn’t removed his sunglasses until she had closed the door behind them, so the rings underneath his eyes hadn’t been visible until he was well out of the public - and semi-public - eye. He had taken his seat in the middle of the sofa almost aggressively spread-out, with both arms thrown up on the back seat on either side and one foot resting over the other knee. 

He looked confident. He looked tired. 

“If you’d like. I’m fairly sure you know mine. Thought I saw it on the file as I walked in.”

She rewarded him with a small, polite smile, and adjusted her seat slightly. 

He looked straight into her eyes then, with a slight furrow of his bow. “I don’t usually get along very well with therapists. Nothing against you. I’m sure you’re perfect in every way - Pepper wouldn’t have bullied me into going otherwise - but you’ll find me a handful and I don’t doubt we’ll both agree very soon that this was a bad idea and get on with our respective lives. It has happened before, no great shame shall befall you, et cetera et cetera.”

_ There it was _ . She’d been expecting a similar speech since Miss Potts’ phoned her.

“It is possible”, she said neutrally.

Tony Stark raised an eyebrow. “Ah. You’re one of the stubborn ones, then.”

“That is also possible”, Lauren agreed.

“I’m afraid I am one of those too.” 

“I don’t doubt it”, she said a bit more sarcastically than she had intended. 

_ Shit. _

How on earth people still wanted her as their therapist was sometimes beyond her.

His sardonic smile told her she hadn’t been entirely out of line - or, that he appreciated that she had been. “Alright, let’s get it over and done with, then.”

“Good.” She smiled. “We’re now at the stage where I and my new client normally introduce ourselves to each other. I somehow feel as if you and I might be past that.”

Tony gave her a look of mild scepticism. “Already?”

“What with Miss Potts’ no doubt very thorough vetting process on one hand, and years and years of press conferences and tabloids on the other”, she qualified somewhat drily.

That actually startled a small laugh out of him, and Lauren felt the knot of nervousness in her stomach loosen slightly.  _ Success _ . 

It was silent for a moment.

“You’re nothing like my last therapist”, Tony said eventually. 

“You’re nothing like my last client”, Lauren agreed amiably. “I guess we both have to let go of preconceptions while we’re here.”

The smile he gave her was sharp, but she saw that her words had hit home. “Point well made, Dr McKinley.”

“Lauren, please. If you don’t mind.”

“Lauren”, Tony Stark agreed. “So, doc, what should we talk about?”

“We can talk about whatever you’d like”, she answered with a small smile she knew most of her clients found reassuring. “But it would be helpful to know what you’d like these sessions to help you with, if you know that.”

“Pepper didn’t say?”

“I’m not sure Pepper knew.” And even if she did, it would be better if it came straight from Tony.

Tony got a slightly pained look on his face at that. “She’s just being discreet. Not unlike her, I admit. Wants me to do my own heavy lifting.”

He lifted his arms from the back rest of the sofa, put the foot down on the floor and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him as if in prayer. He closed his eyes briefly, and when he looked up at her again, the arrogant confidence was gone and only the tiredness was left.

“There’s all sorts of shit, really”, he confessed in a tone that was probably supposed to sound light. “Nightmares. Pep definitely knows about those. Panic attacks. Not as frequent anymore, but they happen. General anxiety. Which can be fucking ugly at times. A very unhealthy relationship to alcohol. Probably a shit ton of childhood baggage I haven’t unpacked. Not sure I want to, though. If we go back far enough we’ll probably even find some PTSD from Afghanistan. I’m a fucking mess, doc.”

Lauren made very sure none of the instinctual  _ But you’re Iron Man _ showed in either her face nor her body language. 

She’d lived in New York all her life, and she remembered the attack from four years ago vividly. The terror when the huge, alien creatures shook the ground she stood on. The blind relief of seeing the Avengers fight back. The silence, when it was all over. 

He’d helped them then, and he was as human as she was. 

“Everyone’s a mess, in some ways”, she said gently. “Has it gotten worse recently? Is that why you’re here now?”

Tony exhaled sharply through his nose. “I - yeah.”

“Would you like to tell me if there’s anything that’s changed?” she prompted.

He looked up at her with a wry smile. “What do you know about the Sokovia Accords, doc?”

* * *

She saw Tony twice a week, normally, but she learned never to assume any week was going to be a normal week. He would call, sometimes, and tell her he’d be in D.C or in New Delhi or in California for a couple of days, and that he couldn’t make their next appointment. Sometimes, he wouldn’t call, but at least then there would always be an email she was fairly sure an assistant or something typed out for him, even though it was always signed  _ T.S _ and never any other name. 

They talked about the Sokovia Accords, and slowly, painfully, Tony talked about  _ Steve _ and Lauren learned to not be surprised by anything, not even him swearing over  _ fucking Cap’s sense of fucking misguided duty  _ and where he could put it. She sat up until two A.M three nights in a row once, fueled by coffee and curiosity, googling  _ Sokovia Accords _ and  _ Enhanced humans registration _ and every other possible search combination she could think of, to be able to  _ understand _ how the strongest team in the world, the  _ Avengers _ , could fall out (the internet called it  _ The Civil War _ , and from what Lauren gathered from Tony’s stories, it wasn’t far from it) over a registration act. The more she read, it seemed to her that there was no right or wrong side, only sorrow and panic and a wish to do  _ something _ but not being sure what that  _ something  _ should be. The more Tony talked, once the first fury was dealt with, it seemed he began to come to the same conclusion, and the bitter anger faded into something closer to grief, hurt, and sorrow. There was something else there, too, something ugly he omitted from the stories - something he didn’t want to talk to her about, but probably knew he should. She assumed they would get there, eventually.

They talked about Sokovia, and Ultron, and she saw his face darken every time. For all he was fond of talking abstractedly about all the mistakes he’d made, he didn’t like talking about Ultron. He did it anyway - sounding as a salesman, trying to convince her it had been the right call to make with the information they had at the time, despite what happened in the end. She didn’t think he believed himself. She told him she wasn’t there to pass judgement, and she saw that take root as  _ he’d have to judge himself, then _ . She sighed, made notes to get back to it later, and moved on to the next topic when he did.

They talked about Howard Stark, sometimes, but only a few sentences at a time, before Tony switched subjects. 

They talked about the loneliness and terrifying immeasurability of space.

They talked about alcohol as a coping mechanism, to forget or to dull. They talked about  _ four weeks sober _ which had used to be  _ nine months sober _ before the whole debacle with the Sokovia Accords. When he came in  _ three days sober _ , full of self-loathing, they talked about that too.

They talked about Afghanistan, which should maybe have been the deepest trauma of them all, but somehow wasn’t, because that’s not always the way trauma works, and then they talked about that as well.

Tony found it easier to talk about non-consequential things. Lauren tried to call him out whenever he switched the subject too much. 

“You don’t pay me to listen to these things, Tony”, she’d said once, sternly, when he’d gone into a long description of a proto-nano-robotics project he’d started in college.

“You say that as if I couldn’t afford you”, Tony had replied flippantly.

“What you can afford or not is for once not the point”, she’d shot back. “If you don’t value your own time, then please value  _ my _ time more than this. I’m sure you have plenty of interns who’d pay  _ you _ to listen to you talk about this, but I’m not one of them.” 

He’d started, then actually looked a bit shamefaced, at that. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Okay.”

She worried sometimes whether she’d ever go too far in her sarcastic commenting, or if she was too harsh with him, if she should go back to doing it by the book; but another thing that was made very clear very quickly was that Tony Stark did very few things by the book.

“I need your opinion”, he opened one of their sessions, strolling in with his sunglasses in one hand and a StarkPad in the other.

“Hi, Tony”, Lauren said, and raised an eyebrow. “It’s good to see you.”

He waved that off. “Yes, yes, well. So. You’re a successful woman. You’re beautiful, charming. You have class.”

Something - a mix of feeling flattered and dread - pooled in Lauren’s stomach.  _ He could  _ not _ be hitting on her.  _ “Thank you”, she said, as neutrally as possible.

Tony gave her a look she couldn’t quite interpret. Sadness, maybe, or something like it, but she didn’t think it was directed at her. “Those weren’t compliments. You know all that already, you don’t need or want me to tell you that. No, I’m just saying that so you understand why I’m asking  _ you _ this.” He tapped his pad twice with the hand still holding the sunglasses, and a blue hologram sprang up from the surface.  _ That never ceased to be cool, though.  _ “Which one would you prefer?”   
  


Lauren stared. “...what  _ are _ those, Tony?”

“Diamonds. Rings. You know. The kind you spring on someone and hope they’re really happy when you do, and don’t just say  _ Aw that’s awfully sweet of you _ and smile at you with pity.”

Lauren carefully buried her first three responses under a thick layer of professionalism. “Are you planning on proposing to someone?”

He gave her a blank stare in return. “I thought we’d established you read the gossip pages about me.”

And there really wasn’t much to say to that.

After that, they also talked about Pepper Potts. He’d kept a ring close by for many years, apparently, but changed the model every now and then. Lauren couldn’t quite make sure whether it was from nervousness about what she’d think, a fear she might say no if it wasn’t perfect, or from a thoughtful insight that Pepper’s tastes changed slightly over time. They talked about his relief of the  _ off _ having turned back into an  _ on _ . It seemed to Lauren he had a fairly good grip as to why she sometimes left him - because he made clear that this wasn’t the first time - and that he honestly couldn’t understand why she would want to come back, but that she so far always had. She tried to get him to talk about his own self-esteem, then, but that was harder. 

She gave him exercises, though. “Nope”, she simply said once, a few months in, after a particularly biting comment about how Pepper  _ was supposed to be intelligent, really, so how the hell she hadn’t seen then what a fucking mess he was _ , after talking about the last time Pepper had left him. “You’re not going to do that.”

“You’re not my real mom”, Tony deadpanned.

“From what you’ve told me, you rarely listened to her anyway”, Lauren shot back, then took a breath to collect herself. “So, until the next time we see each other, you’re not going to downtalk yourself like that. Every time you get the urge, you’re going to stop what you’re thinking or saying, and then switch the perspective.”

“I’m not going to excuse my fuck-ups”, Tony said sharply. “I’ve fucked up plenty, doc, and I’m not gonna pretend I haven’t. They call it  _ taking responsibility for my actions _ or some shit like that. Never used to do it, trying to be a better man. All that jazz.”

“Not excuse.  _ Explain _ .” She thought for a second, tried to find a good example. “So, instead of saying  _ Pepper should never have gone back to me because she should have seen what a fucking mess I was _ -” she ignored his slight flinch at her throwing his own words back at him - “you’d say  _ I’m grateful Pepper came back to me despite the fact that I was working through some heavy shit at the moment and wasn’t at my best. _ See the difference there?”

Tony stared at her. “Lauren. No one  _ actually _ thinks like that. That’s - that’s not human speech, that is psychologistese, and no one who doesn’t have college credits studying Freud’s fascination with fucking his mom would  _ ever  _ say that.”

That startled a small laugh out of her. “Maybe not”, she conceded, “but you still saw what I did, right?”

Tony looked torn in the way Lauren had come to recognise as  _ wanting  _ to agree with her, but not quite being able to.

“If it helps”, she added, “pretend one of your greatest fans just got a school assignment to explain your actions, and try to imagine what they would say. Someone who knows all about you, and looks up to you. I know there are a lot of those around. Just try it for a couple of days, yeah?”

Tony stared at her, and the emotions flickered over his face so fast she could barely follow -  _ guilt - something like anger? - desperation - self-loathing? -  _ and finally settled on helpless amusement.

“I can do that”, he said. “And Dr McKinley, if you’d take on another patient, you’d be doing me a favour. I have a….  _ friend _ who I think you should meet. Or who I think should meet you. You’d get along well.”

Wondering when she lost control of her client list so completely, she smiled back, but allowed the smile to stay sharp and unforgiving. “I’m sure, Mr Stark.”

The small wince he gave in reply was very satisfying.

And, well. Considering Wendy had had her last session last week, she supposed she had Tuesday afternoons free these days.

* * *

The knock on the door was familiar, and as usual, Jen didn’t wait for her reply to open it and stick her head in. She’d had Lauren’s schedule since her second week at the office. “Peter Parker here to see you, for his first appointment?” she said, waiting for confirmation.

“Thanks, Jen.” Lauren put her pen down, rose from behind her desk, and sat down in the armchair she usually used for client sessions with her tablet and pen. “Send him in, please?”

Jen disappeared. Lauren heard her have a short, muted conversation with someone in the reception area, while she opened a new file and named it  _ Peter Parker _ , and wondered what kind of relationship this Peter Peter had with Tony Stark, to make Tony Stark set up a meeting with a therapist for him.

When a teenage boy with somewhat messy hair and a hesitant expression slowly opened the door enough to squeeze through, all her half-formed hypotheses went out the window.

“Mr Parker?” Lauren pushed down her confusion behind a professional smile, rose, and stretched her hand out towards him. “I’m Doctor Lauren McKinley. Very pleased to meet you.”

He shook her hand with a nervous smile. “Erhm, hi - I’m Peter - good to meet you too, ma’am.”

“Call me Lauren, if you like”, she offered. “Can I call you Peter?”

He nodded. 

“In that case, please take a seat, Peter.” She smiled warmly at him.

Peter sat down in the armchair opposite her, and fidgeted a little with a hole on the knee of his jeans, before remembering himself and straightening up.  _ Nervous _ . That was fine. She knew how to handle that. 

“Now, I don’t know how much you know about me.”  _ How much Tony Stark gossiped _ . “But I usually start my first meeting with someone new with some introductions, if that’s alright?” Peter nodded, and Lauren smiled. “So, I’ll start. I’m Lauren. I’m thirty-four years old, born and raised in Brooklyn. I used to play basketball in high school and college, and I was… actually pretty good.” He mirrored the smile she shot him at that. “I don’t play anymore, but I do still live in Brooklyn, with my husband and two boys. Aiden is almost six, and Jonathan is two.”

Peter looked like he didn’t quite know what to say to that, so Lauren gave him another, encouraging smile. “Will you tell me a little about you, Peter?”

“Oh, erhm, sure.” Peter adjusted his seat again. “I’m… Peter, but you already knew that. I’m from Queens, I live there with my Aunt, and I, uh, I’m fifteen... I go to Midtown Tech. I do academic decathlon, which is, uhm, fun.” He trailed off.

“Midtown, huh?” Lauren said casually. “You’re a science geek?” 

Peter looked at her, probably trying to figure out whether she meant it in a positive or negative way. Lauren got the impression he was an intelligent kid - and not only in the booksmart way. “Yeah - yeah, I guess.”

“Good for you.”

He smiled at that, a wider and more genuine smile than any she’d gotten before.  _ Science - comfort zone.  _ Then he frowned slightly, before saying: “Don’t - uhm, don’t take this the wrong way, Doctor McKinley, but - uhm. Do you know why… I’m here?”

“Call me Lauren, please.” She raised her eyebrows slightly. “And no, I don’t, actually. Usually, it’s the client who tells me why they’re here. In your case… I was under the impression Tony had given you my name, and that you’d taken him up on the offer.”

Peter looked a bit bothered at that. “I - uh, not - not really.”

“No?”

Peter looked down on his hands, and one of his legs started bobbing up and down. Lauren doubted he was aware he was doing it. “I - I intern for Mr Stark”, he said eventually. “I - guess he thought I couldn’t handle myself on my own.”

_ Which Peter apparently didn’t like the thought of at all. _

Ignoring the oddity of a fifteen-year-old interning for  _ Tony Stark _ , because there was definitely a story there, Lauren said neutrally: “Not everyone who comes for therapy does it because there’s something they can’t handle. Most people I see handle themselves very well, in fact, in their every-day lives. But there might be something they need help with, to become happier. Or something they’d like to talk about with someone who isn’t personally involved. There are as many reasons to see a therapist as there are clients, Peter, and every one of them is valid.”

Peter didn’t say anything, and he didn’t look entirely happy about it, but at least he nodded slightly. 

“If nothing else, Tony has made sure both of us have nothing better to do Tuesday afternoons for a couple of weeks.” Lauren smiled gently. “Even if you think there’s nothing to talk about, many people find it relieving just to have someone to talk with, about their normal week.”

Peter’s face flickered with emotion -  _ desperation - amusement? - sadness - resolution _ , and for a moment, he looked just like Tony had done a week previous. “Okay”, he agreed.

And like that, Lauren had a new client.

Initially, Lauren thought Peter might have agreed to do the four sessions Tony had booked for him because he didn’t want to disappoint her, or possibly because he didn’t want to disappoint Tony - she quickly gathered he wanted to please people and rarely made decisions based on what would benefit  _ him _ . It turned out, however, that they had plenty to talk about once they got started, and that once Peter began feeling comfortable with her, he was more than able to fill their sessions with rants, confessions, discussions and every now and then, touching on  _ something _ Lauren didn’t know what it was yet. They’d get there eventually.

With Peter slowly migrating towards lying sprawled across the armchair, his legs over one armrest and his head over the other, they talked about school. Peter was bullied, but tried to make light of it - or, at least that was Lauren’s initial conclusion. As they continued to talk, however, she actually began believing him when he said  _ it wasn’t that bad _ or that he had other things to worry about. It bothered him, yes - but not as much as it might. She didn’t quite know whether that was self-worth issues or just Peter being very good at seeing the bigger picture. Possibly a bit of both, she decided on.

“These  _ other things _ you have to worry about, Peter”, she said once, when he’d repeated that exact phrase three times in the span of ten minutes. “Could you give me an example of what you mean, when you say that? Just so I understand.”

Peter flustered. “I - uhm, not- nothing in particular, really.” 

“You sure?” Lauren prompted. “Because to me, it sounds like there’s something in particular on your mind when you say that.”

“No!” Peter said hastily. “No, nothing in particular really… I mean, I shouldn’t be too worried about a high school bully anyway, right? Isn’t that what everyone’s saying,  _ it’s going to get better _ ,  _ be the bigger person _ and all that?”

He was clearly lying. Had it been a client she’d had for longer, she’d have called him out on it. Now, she only smiled and said: “Okay”, and ignored the relief on Peter’s face when she dropped it. “And yes, that  _ is  _ what they’re saying. Do you think so too? Looking forward to college?”

It turned out it was a bit early for Peter to think about college, according to him. Lauren didn’t exactly remember when she’d started thinking about it and talking about it with her friends - she  _ thought _ she’d been Peter’s age - but if he said so, she believed him.

They talked instead about his Aunt May - and then, by association, they talked about why he was living with her, and so they talked about an Uncle Ben, who had died not even a year ago, and his parents’ death, when he had been six years old. Ben, and especially Ben’s death, was a sensitive subject, and there was something about it that Lauren thought Peter held back on, but since it was still early days she didn’t push too much. They talked about making rent, May’s long hours, Peter’s wish to contribute and May’s wish to let him be a kid for a while longer, because there were  _ many years for him to work before retirement _ . 

“What about your Stark internship?” Lauren asked, when that came up. “Is that an unpaid position?”

Peter started and looked surprised. “Well - yeah, of course it is.”

“Really?” She’d assumed it hadn’t been, because  _ billionaire _ , but she and Tony rarely talked money, so she knew very little about that part of Stark Industries. 

Peter looked serious, which clashed somewhat with his bright socks dangling over one edge of the armchair. “Look, Dr Lauren -” (which had been the compromise she’d eventually allowed for her name), “- Mr Stark has done  _ so  _ much for me. Like… I can’t even tell you. And now, working in his lab with him and everything… there’s  _ so many _ cool things down there, I, uhm, I’m probably not allowed to tell you what they are but I get to  _ work _ on them, we work on them  _ together  _ and I learn  _ so much _ and it’s really honestly maybe the best thing that’s ever happened. And… that matters so much more than money. May and I’ll be fine, we’ve always been fine.” 

Lauren smiled, and graciously dropped the subject. (And if she might hint something to Tony during their next session, it might be unprofessional, but it might also be the right thing to do.) “You and Tony work together in his lab? That sounds pretty cool.”

“It  _ is _ !” 

So after that, they also talked quite a bit about Tony. Peter called him  _ Mr Stark,  _ but it was clear they were growing closer than merely boss and intern.  _ Good on them _ . From the way Peter spoke about him, this closeness was a recent thing. Most of the time, Peter sounded awestruck, like he couldn’t quite believe his luck.

After their four sessions were up, Peter shyly asked whether he’d be welcome the week after, and Lauren gave him a warm, genuine smile. “Of  _ course _ you are, Peter. I’ll see you next week.” 

She’d look forward to it, too. It was impossible not to like Peter, nerdy t-shirts and tendency to babble about  _ super cool experiments _ and all.

The disproportionately big checks from Stark Industries weren’t too bad either.

Two days later, Tony commented on her sessions with Peter for the first time, during a lull in one of his own. “So, I guess the kid likes you too, huh? Thought he might.”

“You know I can’t comment on other clients, Tony”, Lauren said wryly. Still, it was nice to hear from Tony’s own mouth that  _ he _ liked her. She never quite knew whether she pushed him too hard or not.

“Wasn’t that what you did when you  _ carefully hinted _ I maybe should start paying all my employees?” Tony raised an eyebrow.

Lauren pursed her lips, feeling slightly uncomfortable. “That was merely a suggestion. Putting your money where your mouth is, all that jazz.”

“Yeah, yeah, you didn’t say anything, no confidences broken and all that. Still. Kind of wish the kid would have come to me with that instead of having to go via you”, Tony added in a lower voice. “Jesus. Money problems, I can fix, that’s so far from an issue it’s laughable. It’s the other shit I have a harder time with.”

As a rare indulgence to her curiosity, Lauren didn’t say  _ What other shit,  _ as she probably should have as his therapist, but rather: “I understand Peter has been working more closely with you lately.” 

Tony shrugged. “Well. Yes and no. He wants to go out Spider-Manning or whatever he calls it -  _ patrolling _ , I think, like a fucking cop or something - anyway, he wants to do that as often as he can, and well - I have a busy schedule whenever Pepper gets me to do what she thinks I should do. But, yeah, every two weeks or so he’s down in my lab with me.”

Lauren said nothing, mostly because it felt like something hard had hit her in the stomach and punched all air out of her.

Tony gave her a weird look, but must have assumed she was  _ psychologisting him with her silence _ , like he’d put it once, so he shrugged and continued, somewhat self-consciously: “It’s… nice. He’s a good kid, you know? Really good kid. And so smart, honestly Lauren, you should see him down there. He’s grasping all sorts of theories and problems like  _ that-”,  _ a snap of his fingers, “-and I’ve  _ never _ had to explain something twice to him. Do you  _ know  _ how rare that is? Certified genius, that one. He talks too much, but, you know, not  _ too _ much?”

“I’m - I’m sorry, can we back up a little?” Lauren managed to choke out.

Tony frowned. “Did I lose you? I didn’t even specify on the techno-babble, I thought I was being considerate.”

“He’s  _ Spider-Man _ ?”

Tony looked sharply at her. “...yes, he is. Which is why I sent him to you, so that he could have a chat about his spider-related issues with someone safe, who isn’t me. What the  _ fuck  _ have you guys been  _ talking  _ about for four weeks?”

“I don’t know, school?” Lauren said feebly. “No - shit, Tony, I can’t  _ tell _ you what we’re talking about, you know that. Shit, sorry. Uhm, but so.” She shook her head, trying to make  _ some _ sense of this conversation which had just taken a  _ very _ unexpected turn. “Spider-Man.”

“I wanted to give him the chance to tell you himself.” Tony shook his head. “Me and my big mouth, huh.”

Lauren snorted, somewhat hysterically. “Yeah, I’d say.”

“Obviously, you can’t tell anyone”, Tony said calmly, and for the first time in their months together, Lauren saw a hint of what Tony could be if he wanted to.  _ I am Iron Man _ . “Client confidentiality notwithstanding, Peter’s a minor, with some occasionally very dangerous extracurricular activities. His identity must  _ not _ leak.”

“What do you take me for?” Lauren said somewhat more confrontationally than she’d intended. “Of  _ course  _ I won’t tell anyone.”

“No careful hints. No letting anything slip by accident. No  _ nothing _ .” 

Lauren knew Tony and his emotions well by now. She knew what he sounded like when he was angry, or decisive, and this was not it, despite a fairly good try to sound like it. This was anxiety, guilt. A wish to protect. An almost as keen wish to hide it.

“I promise”, she said simply, after having discarded a number of other alternative replies.

Tony looked at her, eyes piercing, judging, before looking away. He nodded. “That’s settled, then. Brilliant.”

They avoided both  _ Peter Parker  _ and  _ Spider-Man _ for the rest of the session, and Lauren wondered whether that was for Tony’s benefit, or for hers.

* * *

The next time Tony came was the following Monday. Jen had long ago given up on trying to announce his arrival, and as usual, he opened the door himself. He flopped down in the armchair and put his hands on his knees, small smile on his face.  _ A good day _ . 

He was taking a breath to start rambling about something or another - it was usually a breakthrough in the labs, or something Pepper had done, whenever he was in this mood - but Lauren had made up her mind about the start of this session, at least, and so she spoke first. “Hi Tony, good to see you.”

“Hi, doc.” The small smile faded, and he cocked his head to one side. “...what’s up? Something’s up.”

Lauren took a breath through her mouth, and let it out through her nose, as discreetly as possible. “Before we start today’s session, Tony, I wanted to talk to you.”

“About Peter.” His voice was suddenly cold.

Lauren didn’t let it bother her - it wasn’t personal. “No - well, not exactly. More, about the… about both you and Peter having the same therapist. About both of you talking to me.”

She’d had a lot of time to think over the weekend - her husband had asked more than once why she was so distracted, and in the end she’d had to escape through  _ I’m sorry, love, but I really can’t talk about it this time. It’s just something a client said.  _ All of which was true, but not in the way her husband supposed. 

Tony frowned. “Two of us too much superhero for you? You wanna back out?” Apparently, Lauren took too long to reply, because he nodded curtly, rose from his chair and straightened out his suit jacket before she could react. “Of course, that’s your right. I get it, actually, I’ve heard it’s hard as hell to be on the sidelines and have to listen to this kind of shit we’re gonna spew up. Not that I would know, I’m not great with the sidelines-thing, usually throw myself right into the middle. Still. Not an issue, don’t worry about it. I’ll back down, and you’ll keep seeing Peter.” 

“Tony, sit the  _ fuck  _ down.” 

Startled and half-way to the door, Tony turned around, one eyebrow raised.

“This right here”, Lauren said as sternly as she could, “is  _ exactly _ what we’ve been working on for over a month now. Who says I don’t want to keep seeing you? If there was a choice between you and Peter - and”, she added and held up a hand to forestall him, “I’m  _ not _ saying that’s the case, but if there  _ was _ \- why couldn’t I have picked you?”

“Two reasons.” Tony didn’t move. “One - the kid is at least ten times more likable than I am, no person with a brain would ever pick me over him. And two - I wouldn’t let you, because the kid needs you, so I’m choosing for you.”

“You need me.”

“Not as -”

“-and if you say  _ not as much _ , I’d like to remind you that we’ve spent a month talking about your problems with seeing your own self-worth, and you just threw  _ no person with a brain would ever pick me over him _ at me - we’ll come back to that one. And in any case, this is not what we’re talking about, so will you  _ please  _ come back and sit down and let me explain?”

Still frowning, Tony finally did what she asked.

“Now. As your therapist, I - ideally - want you to be as comfortable with talking to me as possible. This whole thing -”, she gestured between them, “is built on trust.”

“Naturally”, Tony agreed, eying her closely.

“This means that if there are topics - big topics, topics that are important to you - that you can’t talk about with me, because you’re not comfortable with it, we aren’t a good fit anymore.”

She saw understanding dawn. “You worry Peter won’t want to talk to you about me, since you’re my therapist too. Or any… me-related topics. Such as his spidering.”

“I don’t worry”, she corrected, “I was wondering. But yes, that is basically it. And in reverse, too - whether you’d be comfortable talking to me about Peter.”

“Why would I have an issue with that?”

She fixed him with a sharp look. “Tony, I know you pretty well, yeah? You clearly care about the kid - you found him a therapist when you thought he needed one, you care for his wishes around going out patrolling, but still take time out of your schedule, which you keep reminding me is incredibly busy, to build things with him in your lab. This is all disregarding anything Peter might or might not have said about the two of you by the way, in case you missed that. And yet, you have mentioned him by your own volition exactly three times. Once, in passing, when you talked about recruiting Spider-Man for the fight in Leipzig - and might I remind you that I didn’t know at the time that we were talking about Peter Parker then. Once when you asked whether I’d take him on as a new client. And once, last week, when you asked me how our sessions were going. You’re  _ already _ avoiding talking about him with me.”

Tony winced. “When you put it like that.”

“Indeed.” 

“Could I maybe convince you that’s because he’s completely unrelated to the shit-show that’s my life?”

She smiled sweetly. “Do you think you could rephrase that one for me, Tony?”

“Fuck you”, he said without heat. “Uhm, could I convince you that’s because the kid… shit, doc. Because the kid and I have a completely uncomplicated relationship that I don’t need to talk to my therapist about?”

“Much better”, she praised. “And it’s possible you could. But for you to do that, you’d have to actually  _ talk  _ about it with me first.”

Tony shrugged. “Worth a shot. Fine. Peter Parker, officially up for discussion. Why the hell not.”

Lauren raised her hand again. “ _ If _ , and only if, you feel like that’s a good idea. I’m serious about this, Tony. I wouldn’t recommend two people as closely involved in each other’s lives as you and Peter are to share a therapist, normally. In fact, I’d advise against it, if nothing else for the sense of assurance, that your therapist is always on your side of the story. What if you were ever to fundamentally disagree, or fight, or get mixed up in some superhero conflict you need to talk to someone about? Would you still be able to talk to me about it, knowing I’d also be listening to Peter’s side of the story? Would you be able to do it as freely as you would wish?” 

She didn’t stop speaking until she was done, despite the look on his face. She needed him to understand. 

She’d seen the videos, what little there was, from the battle of New York, from Lagos, from Sokovia, when the disasters had struck. She’d looked at them again, after Tony started talking about them - seeing them through his eyes, trying to fit his halting explanations of regrets; pain; being  _ kinda sure we’d all die, y’know, but you can’t think like that when it’s happening or you’ll freeze _ ; the desperate fear for people who had grown to be more friends than colleagues in one of the worst professions on earth; inescapable pressure of knowing that if they didn’t do it,  _ no one would _ . 

She’d looked at the videos again this weekend, and tried to merge the chaos of it all with a sense of responsibility for a sixteen-year-old intern slash superhero. She’d had no problems imagining the state of Tony in her office if it had been Peter Parker who had died in a battle similar to the one in Sokovia, instead of the Maximoff boy. Or for that matter, the state of Peter, if it had been Tony. She also had no problem imagining how devastated they’d both be, if they would end up on different sides in a new  _ Civil War _ , for whatever reason. Tony’s relationship with Steve was… shaky at best. 

Briefly, she wondered whether Captain America could find a therapist of his own despite being on the run.

“No”, Tony said. “I probably wouldn’t.” He looked a bit pained, and carefully studied the building on the other side of the street through the window, instead of meeting her eyes. “But I’m also not… a huge fan of the idea of starting over with someone else, y’know?”

With four months invested into their conversations - and most likely a few weeks of vetting an unknown number of psychologists by Miss Potts beforehand - Lauren understood that very well. She’d seen a therapist herself, a few years back, and she’d always come out of his office feeling wrung out, like a dirty washcloth. That feeling had lessened with time, though, and she thought she recognized the same process in Tony - slightly less tense shoulders, slightly more energy at the end of the sessions, each time he left.

She nodded. “If that feels like it overrides the rest, that’s absolutely fine. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. We don’t have to change anything.”

Tony nodded. 

She said nothing. Waited him out.

“Did Peter say something, then?” Tony still didn’t look at her.

And there it was. 

“I haven’t seen Peter yet”, she reassured him. “Our next session is tomorrow. I  _ will _ ask him the same thing I’ve asked you now, though. If he wants to talk to someone else instead of me, I’ll be happy to recommend a colleague. We’ve only seen each other four times, and as you informed me last week, we’ve mostly spent that time talking about small fish. He’d be up to speed with a new therapist in no time.”

Tony didn’t look happy, but nodded.

Then he sighed. “I’m, uh, sorry for putting this on you, doc.” 

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

He turned back to face her. “I should really have been able to figure this one out myself. Not to brag or anything, but I’m a very intelligent person, and yet - it took me ages to think  _ hey, if I go see a therapist for all the fucked-up shit in my life, maybe the literal teenager in the same fucked-up shit, I dunno,  _ also _ should see a therapist  _ \- and once I  _ did _ think that, my immediate reaction is to go  _ huh, my therapist’s good, he should also see her _ without stopping to think about the million reasons that might not be a great idea.” He shook his head with a self-decrepitating smile. “A shame intelligence doesn’t translate over into… emotional stuff.”

“I think it translates over just fine.” Lauren smiled a little. “You  _ did _ think of it eventually, and you did find him a therapist - and  _ not to brag or anything _ , but I actually  _ am  _ pretty good.” That drew a small laugh from him. “ _ And  _ you knew Miss Potts had vetted me. It wasn’t an odd conclusion to draw.”

“It puts you in an awkward position, though.” There was a glimmer of  _ something  _ in his eyes, which Lauren mostly found there when he spoke about the Accords. “If we both keep talking to you. Doesn’t matter how good you are at compartmentalizing us or whatever, you can’t say it doesn’t.”

“A little bit”, she conceded. “But I’m a grown-ass woman, Tony. I can handle myself. And if I can’t, I’ll promise to tell you. How’s that?” 

Tony Stark’s eyes narrowed a little. Then he relaxed. “Sounds fair to me.”

* * *

Lauren was reminded of the first time she’d seen Peter, when he came in the following day. The nervous tics were back, and he sat straight in the armchair. 

Once they’d said their hellos, he was also unusually quiet.

Wide eyed and with as few words as possible, he reassured her that no, he didn’t want to see Dr Rivera instead, he’d like to keep seeing her, and yes, he was sure. 

“I already knew Mr Stark talked to you”, he shrugged meekly. “And… I, uhm, I like talking to you? I guess? And now that you  _ know _ it’s going to be so much easier too because I don’t have to watch what I say so much and…” He trailed off, looking uncomfortable, and shrugged again. “So…”

Sighing internally, Lauren gave up. It might never be a problem, she supposed. 

(She knew it was highly unlikely she’d be that lucky, but what can you do.)

“I guess you did know already”, she allowed, then smiled as kindly as she could. “Well then! If it’s no problem for you, it’s no problem for me.”

He perked up a little at that. “Does that mean you’re, uhm, going to continue? To be my therapist, I mean?”

“As long as you want me to”, she promised him.

“Awesome”, he breathed, and she could hear his relief.

“And I  _ promise _ you that I can keep a secret.” Lauren leaned forward a little in her armchair, looking him in the eyes. “I completely get why you wouldn’t tell me all about yourself, Peter, I do. Big secret, really important shit. But I want you to know that you  _ could _ have, and I wouldn’t have said anything to anyone. Not to Tony, not to your Aunt, not to my best friend, not anyone. The only time I’m going to have to tell anyone else anything ever is if I think you’re going to intentionally harm yourself, because then I’d have to talk to your Aunt, but other than that - total confidentiality, okay? Nothing leaves this room. I’m not secretly in love with a super villain - I really hope so, anyway, or my husband has some explaining to do. I’m not looking to sell any stories to newspapers. I’m not Tony’s spy. I’m just someone for you to talk to about shit that can be really hard to talk about with just anyone.”

Peter looked a little embarrassed, but nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

“Good. It’s important to me that you know that.”

“It wasn’t about you, Dr Lauren, not really”, Peter said earnestly. “It’s just… I dunno, I wasn’t sure I could talk to  _ anyone _ , because as you said, it’s a big secret, yeah? And everyone who knows is in danger, or could be, if the wrong people found out. And I know people don’t even know I’m seeing you, so it  _ should _ be okay, but I still… I dunno. I should have realized I could, I guess.”

Lauren shrugged. “You’re very used to protecting people - I already knew that, by the way, even if I didn’t know the scope of it before.”

Peter nodded solemnly. 

Shit. He looked young, for someone who carried other people’s lives on his shoulders on a regular basis.

Forcing that thought out of her head, she smiled kindly. “So. Is there maybe something you’d like to tell me about yourself, Peter?”

“Stop it”, he grumbled, but she saw his lip twitch. “We literally just talked about this. You know already.”

“I’m going out on a limb here”, she said and raised her eyebrows slightly, “but I’m guessing you rarely get to actually say it out loud. Don’t you want to?”

“Yeah, okay.” Peter leaned forward a little, looking nervous. Excited. Looking young. “So. Uhm. You’re right, I don’t say this a lot, but I’m - I’m Spider-Man.”

Ignoring the way her heart leapt at that - from mirrored excitement, incredulity or fear for his life, she didn’t know yet - she smiled widely at him. “Hi, Spider-Man.”

* * *

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god, Tony is so much fun to write. I’m going to have to do that more. Hope you liked my take on him!
> 
> Two apologies:  
> I’m sorry for any Briticisms sneaking their way in there! I’m neither British nor American, but for some reason, most of my writing has always been in British fandoms before.
> 
> I also apologize with all my heart to any practicing therapists/psychologists out there, if I’ve misrepresented you in writing Lauren. I know very little about being a practicing psychologist and I’ve basically bullshitted the entire thing. If you found any glaring mistakes (“No therapist would EVER say that to a client!”) I’d be grateful if you told me!
> 
> Thank you for reading my silly brain-child, and see you around!


End file.
